


Every Other Freckle

by caravaggiogoth



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: AU, Drug Use, M/M, Punk Band Au, alcohol use, the island never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:30:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caravaggiogoth/pseuds/caravaggiogoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the boys end up in Berlin sooner or later. Shenanigans ensue. This is mostly centered around Ralph and Jack, but its so slow build that at this point it's not that noticeable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Other Freckle

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first chapter, I never bothered writing more but if someone actually likes this train wreck I could try writing more.

Yellow rays shone throught the flimsy curtains, casting light over the naked walls of the apartment. As a gentle breeze tangled through the sheer fabric, the luminous fingers seemed to solidify into solid bands mercilessly painting the slumbering face of the adolescent curled up on a sofa a solid gold. The breeze swept through the room, leaving an afterwave of chaos in its wake: a flutter of papers, an errant lock of gilded hair tickling the youths nose, an eyelid cracking open in sleepy irritation.  
As the young man convulsed into wakefulness, sitting rapidly upright with a scowl, another figure, sprawled across a camping cot folded open on the floor by the opposite wall, stirred. Then, a voice, scratchy and low, interrupted the bright silence.

"G'morning Ralph", said the other boy as he also righted himself. He shook his short, thin hair, and made a grab for the pair of glasses resting on the floor next to his cot.  
The blond grumbled unintelligibly as he stood up from the sofa, digging long fingers into his hair and tugging at a few errant knots. 

"G'morning Piggy" Ralph mumbled through a yawn. He looked over at his friend sheepishly. "Are you sure you still want to go by that horrible nickname? We're in a new country, about to begin from square one. Don't you want to go by something more"-he scrambled for the right words-"Dignified?"

Piggy grinned cheerfully. "Nah. I'm not ashamed of it. I mean, I had to put up with it since middle school, and Peter never really clicked with me anyway. Plus", he added slyly, "It's pretty ironic now, eh?"

Ralph shrugged. He had given up on understanding the logic behind Piggy's decisions years ago, but he knew better than to question the other boys judgement. And it was true, the nickname really didn't suit him unless it was for the irony of it. Puberty had been kind to both of them, and while Piggy had not lost his chubbiness, his growth spurts had rendered his body more imposing.

The ponderous silence was brutally interrupted by Simon, who had just poked his head through the door and peered at the two, a small smile on his face.  
"Bathroom's at the end of the hall, and the kitchen is through that other door. Help yourselves and try to be ready by ten so I can help you both both finalize your acceptance into your universities by the end of the day. You'll be official Berliners before you know it." Simon flashed a smile. "I'll be in the first room to the right working on an article, so call me a little before ten. " And with a flurry of corvine curls he was gone. 

As it turned out, Simon was right. Ralph and Piggy found themselves busied with documents and mildly confused university officials well into the afternoon. That evening, the three young men sat in Simon's living room and discussed plans for the evening. 

"There's so much to do here! I'm not going to leave you two to stew in my apartment while reblogging study tips from each other." Simon said, warily eyeing the laptops already nestled on one end of the sofa. "I know I want to go see this new band performing in this nearby venue, but if you guys want to go to a club I could take you.." He broke off, suddenly pensive. "I mean, unless you actually don't want to go out. It's just-" he paused again, wringing his hands, "it always feels like a shame to stay indoors in this city because there is so much going on out there!" 

Ralph shrugged. "That sounds like an alright plan." He looked at Piggy questioningly. 

"Oh? Sure, we can go to the concert" Piggy, reaching for his phone. "Who's playing?"

Simon shuffled his feet. "It's this really new group, The Lord of the Flies. The lead is an old friend." He said with a hint of uncertainty. He carded his fingers through his hair. "So, we leave in fifteen minutes?"

"I call the shower!" grinned Ralph, and raced to the bathroom to the groans of the other two. As he shucked off his clothes and turned on the shower, he thought back to Simon's evasive response to Piggy's question. Simon had never been the best at social interaction; it sometimes felt the olive skinned man spoke human as a second, or third language, that he had yet to be become accustomed to the reality of existence. However, there was something about how he said it- Ralph mused as he stepped into the stream of warm water, reaching for the jumbo bottle of offbrand shampoo that was sitting in the corner of the cabin- that unnerved him. He shrugged off the thought as he used more shampoo to wash his body, humming aimlessly. No point in speculation. 

Not fifteen, but thirty minutes later, the trio was out of the door of the apartment complex. The sun was setting, casting the wide streets in soft shades of pink and cream and deep blue. Storefronts that during the day were garish in daylight were now muffled by the chilly onset of the night, and the diffuse rays played upon the features of the boys like the brush of a cat's tail. Ralph tugged at the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck and burrowed his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker, lagging a bit behind as Piggy and Simon started talking animatedly about something or other. As Simon led them through metro stations and and darkening streets, he realized that navigating Berlin felt like treading upon something alive. He shook his head to dispel the image, frowning, and lengthened his steps to catch up with the other two. 

A few minutes of quiet, awkward conversation broken by quiet wheezing, coming from Piggy, and concerned glances from the other two, Simon turned into a parking lot between two nondescript buildings, the corners of his wide smile twitching in excitement. 

"I'm actually really excited about this gig, I can't usually attend concerts because seizures are never fun," he said, eyebrows knitting together in brief irritation, "But I checked with the guy that works the lights yesterday and this one should be safe for me!"

Piggy smiled jovially at Ralph as they made their way to the small, understated entrance of the venue, which, according to Simon, was called Bei Roy. Once inside, Simon dashed off to talk to this person and the other in rapid German. 

Ralph smiled after his friend, then looked back to Piggy. 

"When do you think the concert will start?"

"Judging from the poster stuck to the entrance, I'd say in about twenty minutes," shrugged Piggy. "In any case, I'm going to go get a drink. Want anything?"

"No thanks," said Ralph. "See you later, I'll go get a good spot on the floor."

As Ralph weaved his way through the loosely packed room to find a spot near the small stage, he looked curiously on as a striking twenty-something came onstage to set up things. His red hair glinted in the low light like copper and reminded him vaguely of something, of someone...  
Ralph blinked, the man was now leaving the stage through a side door, the moment of lost recognition passed. He picked at a nail and observed the crowded room, eventually spotting Simon as he stumbled through the crowd, face frozen in discomfort. He was snapping his fingers repeatedly, and, as he reached the tall blond, he quickly slipped into the stool between Ralph and the wall, which had been saved for him.  
"I hate crowds."

Ralph nodded as he offered the cup of water that Simon handed him. As the lights dimmed and Piggy rushed to their corner, he felt a tremor wrack his body. Maybe he was coming down with a cold.  
All thoughts of imagined illness left his body as the strange looking redhead appeared again. He could barely recognize him from before, as his face was decorated with streaks of white and red that seemed to move of their own accord in the low light. As he stepped up to the microphone, Ralph felt the itch of recognition return, more insistent than ever.  
The man made a few adjustments to the cables, tapped experimentally at the foot pedal, then looked out at the crowd, a huge dark mass pulsing in the stifling room. He struck a chord, and began to sing.  
Ralph proceeded to lose his thoughts to the catchy tunes and the warm, modulated voice. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he recognized his own accent in the redheads voice. This was rapidly followed by the deaf impact of understanding.  
He turned to Simon, leaned in to talk over the music. 

"Why didn't you tell us that Jack Fucking Merridew is playing?"

Simon cracked a small smile. "I figured the two of you have an overdue reunion."

"What about Piggy?"

"I checked with him beforehand, he's okay with it."

Ralph glanced at his friend, vexed. Piggy pretended not to notice the amber eyes drilling a hole into his temple, bobbing along to the music.  
Eventually giving up on getting the other boys attention, Ralph returned his gaze to his old friend and rival. He'd definitely gotten better at singing, he grudgingly admitted to himself. While his voice was now a lot lower, it had a peculiar, almost hypnotic quality to it. The tall, still lanky man had definitely benefited from the transformative effects of puberty, if his his face was no longer disproportionate. He was almost beautiful now, with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose striped in blood red. 

Ralph's mind raced, too preoccupied with reconciling the person in front of him with the one he remembered to focus on the music anymore. Last time he'd seen Jack was back in middle school, which at this point felt like a lifetime ago. They used to be good friends, he recalled. Joined by ambition and charisma, the two of them were feared and admired by the rest of their classmates. They'd eventually grown apart, as sometimes happens with teenagers.  
And now? Now they were strangers, strangers at a small and loud concert. 

Ralph shrugged and resolved to get drunk as soon as humanly possible.


End file.
